


Where are my Flowers?

by Pennstram



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Based on S2E3, Canon Compliant, Depressed Merlin, Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Gen, His actions can be read as suicidal, Hurt/No Comfort, Implied Merthur, M/M, merlin needs a hug, please take care if this is a trigger for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25065853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennstram/pseuds/Pennstram
Summary: “So where are my flowers?”“Your flowers?”Merlin finally gives Arthur his flowers
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 93





	Where are my Flowers?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry but I couldn’t get the idea to let go. As I said in the tags Merlin is not in a good place, as such his actions and though process can be read as suicidal even though it isn’t stated outright. Please please please take care in reading.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading.

1095 days. 

The world was silent in the early dawn, air still, birds not yet woken. The soft crunch of footsteps over fallen twigs echoed too loud in the quiet. Fog blanketed the forest in a despondent haze, muting the colors of the morning. Pausing briefly a bright morning glory joined the others in his grasp. The stems pricked at his palms and his hands shook as he adjusted them, one long rose stem sliced his skin. He paid it no mind, let it bleed as the sun bled through the trees. 

_“So where are my flowers?”_ It seemed almost cruel. To anyone who didn’t know his past, their past, it was. It was cruel. It was heartbreaking and suffocating. He stumbled slightly as his breath hitches and the tightness grew in his chest. It was cruel that he forced himself to remember. He had too. Lest he lose himself to the madness. He should lose himself to it. Let it consume what’s left of his misguided soul. Let it deliver him to the gates of Avalon. To his arms once more.

_“Your flowers?“_ The dense forest started thinning long before he reached the tree line. His hands pulled up to his chest, blooms protected from wayward branches. The cold was spreading in his stomach and lungs. His hands shook, and body trembled. There was a sharp pain in every breath he begged to be his last. He could feel tears prickling behind his eyes. 

The sun was bathing the world in a dull warm glow as he stopped just outside the trees. He could feel the light on his skin. He knew the warmth that gold should bring. May have even felt it once in the smile of his King. Not anymore. His skin felt cold, his heart ached and his legs staggered in an attempt to keep him upright. The sun shown upon him, but he felt nothing. _“I heard Morgana got some.“_

The water licked at the rocky shore before him. The once beautiful scenery now only bringing painful memories. A sob bubbled up from his throat as the edge drew nearer. One hand pressed to his mouth to quiet the sound. From the forest the first robins were waking. _“I assumed you’d be putting them in all the rooms.“_

His legs gave out the second he reached the water. Sharp rocks cut into his skin where his knees pressed against them. He welcomed the pain it brought. Cold seeped through him as he pressed the blooms closer to his chest. Begging them to slip inside and fill the jagged hole where his heart long shattered. Tears spilled onto the soft petals only to be dropped to the lake as his hands shook. It was cruel. It was a cruel punishment to himself. One he deserved. 

_“Or is she the only one to receive a token of your affections?“_ The sun was above him when the tears finally slowed and the ache grew dull. It never fully left, always tugging at him to remember. To lose himself to it in grief. Many a day he cried to the old Gods and the new. To bring him back, or at least take him too. To take this unwanted immortality and give him back to his other half. They never answered, and he grew numb to it all. 

His arms slowly lowered, bringing his token to sit in his lap. The colors reflected in the dark water below and a fresh wound opened in his chest. The bitter frost consumed his lungs and stomach. Coursed ruthless cold through his veins and gripped his heart. Water lapped at his knees and his hollow reflection twisted and warped with each passing wave. 

There was nothing left. No happiness. No affection or joy. No _magic_ left in him. Grief and sorrow had carved him out and left him empty. Leaning over in a twisted version of subservience he laid the flowers in the water. The tower of Avalon rising behind them in the distance. He stayed like that as the forest came to life behind him. Kneeling, bowing, arms stretched in front of him in the water. The token laying between his scarred hands. The blood from the newest cut finally melting away as the water engulfed his hands. He watched it swirl way, much in the same way it did that day. 

“I picked them myself.” Was mumbled into his arm as he pressed his face to it to stifle the sobs that broke through. He couldn’t stop them anymore. They ripped from him the way his King was ripped from him, 1095 days ago. The way his heart was ripped from him 1095 days ago. 

_Pick them yourself?”  
“Maybe. I was only trying to be nice.”_

____For you Arthur, only for you._ _ _ _


End file.
